Wednesday, November 21, 2018

It was the most beautiful sight I may have ever seen. I so badly wanted to snap a picture that I even grabbed my phone in a rush to capture the moment, but then I stopped myself because it felt invasive. It was a moment I wanted to freeze in time and store away for a day I am praying will never come. If this day shall,in fact, fall heavy upon my shoulders, I pray that I will reach into my memory and find this image.

It was a young crowd,for the most part - college students, teens, families with kids, and such. The crowdwas one you would expect to show up for a worship night that began at seven o’clock in the evening. You know the scene: flannel shirts, ripped jeans - clothes that looked as if they werestolen from my high school closet. However, there was this particular row of memberswho stood out to me more than any other,and it was not due to their uber-trendy fashion.

Three ladies, at an average age of what I guessed to be around eighty-five years old, stood shoulder to shoulder to the right of where my family was sitting. The “Golden Girls,” as I like to call them, were frail in stature, but mighty in presence, if you know what I mean. My eyes were drawn to them like glue throughout the entire evening, as the overflow of their joy in worshipping the Father was evident. The smiles on their faces as they sang, the swing in their gait as they clapped, the tears that I witnessed slowly slip down their cheeks at the close of a message on God’s amazing grace. Throughout the three-hour long evening, their strength never wavered,and their joy never faltered. It was beautiful.

Why am I sharing this with you? As the mom of four kids, there is no one more excited to see the youth rise in the faith. For my children to have access to young girls and boys boldly proclaiming the good news of God’s amazing grace is a blessing and comfort. But I often fear, in a world that glorifies youth, we are missing out on a generation of men and women who possess the knowledge and wisdom moms like me are desperate for. While the passion of our youth is essential in the vitality of the church, it cannot replace the wisdom and experience of a life lived.

I believe there will at least be one of you who will happen upon this blog and assumes her work in the kingdom is done. You have fallen prey to the whispers from Satan himself:you have nothing left to offer,you have put in your time, just leave the kingdom work for the young.

LIES.

I NEED YOU,and I am confident that there are thousands upon thousands of moms out there like myself. We are hungry for wisdom that cannot be attained through mere head knowledge but preferablyone that has seen the test of time - wisdom that has been born through the painful years, the challenging times, the moments when you wanted to give up, but you didn’t. How did you handle success? How did you handle failures? Was marriage always easy? As a wife and mother, I am riddled with questions, uncertainties, and daily fears that, quite honestly, at times leave me paralyzed.

Satan could very well be distracting you, convincing you to lay down your sword at such a time when the saints are calling you to the front line. Sisters, you are the Golden Girls of this age,and your wisdom has never been more valuable. In the words of Mordecai as found in Esther chapter 4:

“And who knows whether you have not attained royalty for such a time as this?"

For such a time as this. Maybe you have decided that the rest of your life should be lived from the sideline. If that is the case, then allow this post to serve as a message from a daughter who is desperate for your influence upon her life. Or perhaps you are reading as a daughter, one who longs to express her gratitude toward the faithful women who havepoured into her. Share this post with the Golden Girls in your life as a reminder of the value they possess. Finally, if the time should ever arise when I begin to doubt my worth as a daughter of the King, if I should ever shrink back and succumb to the lies of the evil one, please, oh, please,won’t someone share this post with me. Lord Jesus, I want to be a Golden Girl, eighty-five and still ALIVE. ALIVE IN YOU.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart. Heb 12:1-3🖤 Jill

Monday, November 12, 2018

Can we just talk for a bit? Can we just let down our guards and breathe a sigh of relief as we pray for the Holy Spirit to formulate my words in such a way as to convey my heart? I actually have wanted to post about this particular issue for quite some time. I have written several drafts only to end up scratching them all because, well, they felt so impersonal and detached from the realness of such a struggle as the one I am going to discuss.

Social Media. Is this phenomenon the death of generations? Is it to blame for the anxiety, depression, loneliness, and discontentment that we are experiencing as womenin America? Article after article seem to attest to this very fact, and as a user, a blogger, and a mom who posts pics of my kids, I feel convicted to consider where I stand on the issue.

So, I asked myself the following question:“Jill, in all honesty, how do you feel social media has affected you and the culture at large?”

My answer, uncensored, is as follows...

I love it,and I hate it.

I am for it,and I am against it.

I use it poorly,and I also use it for good.

Let me break that down for you a little. I love coming across content whichbuilds me up spiritually as well asBible verses and short devotionals which leave me inspired and challenged. Recipes - I adore the recipes. I love pictures of babies and dogs and cute clothes which I will never buy, probably, but love still the same. I love pretty kitchens and houses, even though I am resolved to knowing that my own will never look that way. There is an understood level of “unrealistic” that goes along with social media,and on most days, I am quite aware and accepting of that fact.

But there are other days when that assumption does not translate as well to my heart. On those days, I tend to scroll through Instagram with a cynical eye. This reaction may occur when I am having a bad day andfeeling not so great about myself possibly because I lost it on my kids, totally blew it as a wife, or simply feel blah because it’s that time of the month and my jeans don’t fit. FYI, I do all those things. In those moments, the little voices inside my head can be nasty.

“Zach doesn’t love me like that” “I’m not a good mom” “I have no cute clothes”

“now that’s a cry for attention” “seriously” “I am not good enough”

Perhaps I am the only one, and if that is the case, then let this post serve as a confession. My instinct in moments of insecurity, because that is precisely what they are, is to assign motives to others. To assume the worst about you is much easier than accepting the raw truth about myself - ouch! In these moments, I am convinced that social media absolutelyis to blame for the ever-growing dissatisfaction among woman because who can compete in a world crafted for perfection?

But then God grants me this moment of clarity, not a beautiful moment, mind you, but one that forces me back into the realm of reality - the reality that exposes my own weaknesses. You see, if I am honest, it does not take a screen for me to find myself in a state of comparison. I do not need a screen or an app for my mind to go to a place of insecurity, doubt, and discontentment. I can manage to do that in the Target checkout line or better yet, from the church pew as I size up your super trendy look and perfectly dressed children. I look down the pew at my less than trendy,snot-nosed kids with untamed cowlicks and mismatched socks and exhale a sigh of defeat.

This realization leaves me in a conundrum because I must hop off the bandwagon of blame and address the matters of my own heart - the source, not the symptom. In this self-assertion, I discovered that I am a human being who struggles in my flesh. Not one who “used” to struggle but one who struggles in the here and now even as I am writing this blog. I struggle with scrolling through Instagram and thinking people are fake. I struggle with being fake (the filter just looks so much better). I struggle with impure motives and assigning motives to others in an attempt to hide behind my own faulty ones. I struggle with believing that God could really love me. I struggle with living under Grace and with extending that Grace.

Although I am admitting them to you now, this admittance is not my natural instinct,and perhaps that is why I avoided writing this post. You see, during these struggles lies an overwhelming desire to hide because who wants to admit those kinds of things about themselves?Yuck! The most comfortable and most convenient place to hide is often found in a small rectangular device. For but a fleeting moment, I may manage to feel the slightest bit better about myself as I pick your words and pictures apart. Maybe I even share them with my friends and laugh together at your expense (hypothetically, of course). However, if affirmation is what I am needing, then I will simply post a picture with a carefully thought-out caption. It may well be a stretch from reality, but the likes will make me feel better.

This coping method was designed by Satan himself to keep our hearts in a state of confusion. One that is so focused on ourselves that Jesus is many times reduced to a mere scripture posted in the caption of a photo which does not reflect Him at all. This tool that can spread the gospel to the ends of the earth has been highjacked. Satan knows our weaknesses; he knows that we long for acceptance, affection, and praise. He also knows how easily we become discontent, and so, with the simplest of distractions and misguided desires, we often settle for the fruit of man’s praise or the contentment in finding someone who is worse off than we are.

Is the answer to remove ourselves from social media? Is the answer to quit going to Target? (My husband would probably agree.) Is the solution to remove any and all people and places from our liveswhich could cause us to spiral down the path of comparison or cause us to portray ourselves in a less than accurate light? To that, I would say good luck. Perhaps you can find a comfy rock to hide under. Not to mention, as Christians, we have been commissioned to go into all the world (Mark 16:15), a world that is full of imperfections and temptations. How do we manage it all?

We manage it from our knees. The contentment we are seeking will not be found in what we choose to give upbut rather in whom we choose to give it. It will not be found in the person we are pretending to be or the person we hope to be but only in the realization of who we actually are, a sinner in need of a savior. There is contentment found in understanding the depth of our depravity and then realizing that God never intended for us to hide behind itbut wants to use us in spite of it. Even in the writing of this post, I feel a freedom. Yes, I hate the me who struggles with all of the seemingly petty, insignificant, middle school problems, but I love the mewho, for this moment, does not feel the need to pretend that I don’t.

The only arrival place is to understand that there is no arrival place this side of heaven. In everything that God designed to be good, man will be tempted to distort. But even in the distortion, God will provide an established Truth that will unveil reality. Sometimes, this reality shows a side of ourselves that we do not want to see. Let yourself see it anyway. It is not through the lens of a perfect life that will draw people to Jesusbut rather the confession of a broken one that is being pieced back together daily. A glimpse into this life, yes, because Jesus always grew a crowd among the broken.